Everybody Loves Me, Baby
by slashbutterfly
Summary: A short tale of what happens when you mix Anthony DiNozzo, alcohol, and a karaoke bar. Or is it? McNozzo, brief hints of Zabby.


(A/N: Just a fun little songfic I came up with whilst listening to my parents' American Pie record. I hope somebody likes it, because I'm pretty pleased with it! Reviews are, as always, appreciated. And I don't own NCIS or the song (which is by Don McLean). Prepare for lots of OOC-ness and drunken behaviour. I know it doesn't entirely make sense, and some of the lyrics are a little off, but bear with me?)

Everybody Loves Me, Baby

No-one was quite sure how exactly they'd ended up in a karaoke bar. The evening had started off as a kind of unofficial Christmas party – someone had brought in a bottle of wine, which they'd all shared up in the squadroom, toasting the holiday. No-one realised quite how late it was getting until Vance came down to shoo them out. So they'd stood around outside for a while, wondering what to do – it was too early to go home with everyone still in high spirits – until someone had suggested driving to a bar. This had met with the whole team's approval, and so a line of cars soon pulled out onto the road, each with two passengers. Palmer had made his excuses much earlier, and so the party was now composed of Gibbs, Ducky, Ziva, Abby, McGee and Tony.

Parking somewhere in town, they'd headed for the nearest neon light as it was beginning to snow, and had found themselves in a pretty average-looking establishment. Someone had got in some drinks, and an hour later they were still there, each holding their third or fourth drink in one hand, and watching Special Agent Anthony incredulously as he stood behind a microphone at the other end of the room.

"_One, two, three, four!"_

McGee couldn't believe his ears as the drums and piano kicked in. He'd never have thought Tony listened to this old stuff. Still, there was nothing anyone could do to stop him now, save forcibly dragging him off the makeshift stage. As Tony opened his mouth to sing, he leant back on the bar, praying that this would not be too painful.

"_Fortune has me well in hand _

_Armies await my command_

_My gold lies in a foreign land buried deep beneath the sand_

_The angels guide my every prayer_

_My enemies are sick or dead_

_But all the victories I've led haven't brought you to my bed_

_You see_

_Everybody loves me, baby_

_What's the matter with you?_

_Tell me, what did I do to offend you?"_

Surprisingly, Tony was not actually that bad a singer. They were all laughing, though, at the rather appropriate choice of song; typical of Tony – egoism and boasting combined. It took McGee a moment to realise that Ducky and Gibbs had apparently left during the chorus. _Probably couldn't stand it any longer!_ he thought. But in looking for them, he'd missed the first lines of the next verse. This was too priceless to neglect.

"_And my face on every coin engraved_

_The anarchists are all enslaved_

_My own flag is forever waved by the grateful people I have saved_

_You see_

_Everybody loves me, baby_

_What's the matter with you?_

_Tell me, what did I do to offend you?"_

It seemed to McGee that suddenly everyone was looking at him – everyone, that is, being Ziva, Abby and Tony. Why, he couldn't imagine. As he watched, the girls turned away and began to whisper behind their hands about something or other. He returned his attention to his friend on stage. _Who, _now he thought about it_, looked rather good in a tight-fitting white shirt and similarly body-hugging jeans. _Shaking his head to get rid of these strange thoughts, he fixed his attention firmly on the song – not the singer, he had to tell himself more than once.

"_Now, no man is beyond my claim when land is seized in the people's name_

_By evil men who rob and maim_

_If war is hell, I'm not to blame!_

_Why, you can't blame me, I'm the heaven's child_

_I'm the second son of Mary mild_

_And I'm twice removed from Oscar Wilde_

_But he didn't mind – why, he just smiled!"_

During the third verse he had had to stop himself from staring. Now he'd noticed it, Tony really _did_ look good. It didn't help that he'd now left the stage and was walking around the chairs and tables, as if performing for imaginary punters. This had given McGee a rather good view of his arse. With this added distraction, he'd completely failed to notice that his female colleagues had also left – leaving him alone in the room with the bartender and a rather drunk Tony, who was now headed straight for him.

"_Yes, and the ocean parts when I walk through_

_And the clouds dissolve and the sky turns blue_

_I'm held in very great value by everyone but you_

_Cause I've used my talents as I could_

_I've done some bad, I've done some good_

_I did a whole lot better than they thought I would_

_So come on and treat me like you should!"_

His friend was becoming increasingly unsteady on his feet as he wound his way towards him, holding eye contact. McGee suddenly found himself unable to look away. As he listened closely to the words, a sneaking suspicion entered his mind, but he pushed it away at once. It was too ridiculous to entertain even for a second. Tony was the straightest of any of them – with the possible exception of Gibbs, with his track record. And he himself – well, of _course_ he wasn't gay. Nope. Not at all. Not in the slightest attracted to men. Not even the wonderfully sexy one now almost close enough to touch…

_Because_

_Everybody loves me, baby_

_What's the matter with you?_

_Tell me, what did I do to offend you?_

As the music played on, he was thankfully saved from the repetition of the chorus because Tony had somehow managed to trip over a chair at his feet and was now lying on the floor, having dropped the microphone, giggling to himself in a very un-Tony-like way. Sighing, McGee bent down, pulled the chair away, picked Tony up (with considerable effort) and carried him outside, dumping him unceremoniously into a pile of snow. He hoped that it would bring him to his senses even a little bit – and, sure enough, the older agent was soon on his feet, brushing himself off. McGee couldn't help noticing that his tight white shirt had become somewhat wet in the snow, and it didn't look at all bad on him. _Stop it! _he told himself sharply. _What is wrong with you this evening? It's like you're… checking him out, or something._

Then he saw the way Tony was looking at him, almost as if he could read his mind. _Shit. Shit shit shit. Now you're in trouble, Timothy McGee._

But his thoughts got no further as he felt soft lips on his own, emptying his mind of all thoughts except _I'm kissing Tony. I'm __**kissing**__ Tony._ To their mutual surprise, he didn't pull back, but joined in whole-heartedly as the snow fell all around them.

After a while, they stopped to breath, gasping in the cold air. Ever the rationalist, McGee began to worry.

"Tony – your lungs –" Then another thought hit him, and he hung his head, almost crying at the unfairness of it. He'd just got what he'd been secretly wanting for months – years – and he shouldn't have done. Embarrassment turned to anger and he looked up, glaring at the other man.

"That wasn't fair, Tony. You got drunk just to make a fool out of me? Nice. Very nice. I bet you won't even remember this in the morning."

He turned to go, but heard quiet laughter behind him, and looked back, incensed.

"You think it's _funny_? Tony, I –"

A finger was pressed to his lips, and a very sober-looking Anthony DiNozzo grinned down at him.

"Think about it, Timmy. Who's been buying the drinks all evening?"

"You did. And Abby. But I don't see what that has to do with anything." His words were rather muffled, but Tony obviously heard, as he sighed.

"Come on, McGeek! You're supposed to be the brainbox here. I bought the drinks because I wasn't drinking. All I've had is one beer. The rest has been straight Coke."

McGee raised one eyebrow. "And Abby? Why? I don't understand?"

The smile returned. "Abby… knew what I was planning. I knew I could trust her to keep a secret – and besides, she's been wanting something to happen between us since way back when. I had to let her in. And the why of it all… God, Tim, you should know by now I'm not half as brave as I make myself out to be. I'm no good with words. Far easier to tell you like this, and have everyone else think I'm drunk. And…" He sighed, running one hand through his _(adorably cute)_ messy hair. "I guess I wanted to cover my back. I mean, if you didn't feel the same way, I could just make out I really was somewhat inebriated, and laugh it off."

Then he frowned, taking his hand from McGee's mouth and looking closely at him. "You… you do, don't you?"

That was a question that needed only one kind of answer. McGee reached up and kissed him gently and quickly, one hand cradling his neck. "We need to get you out of the cold. It can't be doing your lungs any good. But I hardly think I'm qualified to drive, seeing as I really _have_ been drinking." He smiled.

"Take me home?"

They walked hand-in-hand to Tony's car, and completely failed to notice the vehicle parked rather conspicuously on the other side of the road as they drove off. Inside, two familiar figures smiled at each other.

"I _told_ you." Black pigtails bobbed as she laughed. "And you owe me ten bucks."

Her companion mock-grimaced and reached into the pocket of her combats, pulling out a crumpled note.

"Here." Then she too grinned. "Mission accomplished once again, Miss Sciuto."

Their laughter was drowned out over the sound of the engines as they headed for home and a warm coffin for two.

(A/N: Opinions? And to clarify, repetition of "someone" in the opening paragraphs is deliberate.)


End file.
